The Scarab Saga
by Lacey
Summary: Scarab first makes the decision to kill Rapses... though not for the reason most would expect. Chapter 4 added! Alliances are forged and the plot thickens!
1. Secrets

**DISCLAIMER:** Mummies Alive is property of DIC entertainment. Rathera belongs to Ann and Rhett belongs to Sam. This story is based on a theory of mine about Scarab and Rath and need not be considered part of the "regular" MA fic universe.   


##  The Scarab Saga - Chapter 1: Secrets

Scarab gazed down at the woman in his arms. Her dark hair fell across his chest in a thick mist, twisting, twining, twirling in all directions. She lay peacefully, all of her past hardships erased in slumber. The vizier could have admired her sleeping form forever, if given the chance. 

Despite Scarab's calm outward exterior, conflicting emotions tore at him. He knew that he should wake her and confess his secret, but even as he started to speak, a desire that many would have thought unnatural arose within him. "Rathera Mutemwiya," he murmured, pushing back a lock of hair that had fallen in her face. Knowing from the moment he had heard her name that what he felt was wrong, Scarab still allowed himself to be carried along by the torrents of his passion. Now, he was in too deep to tell her the truth. 

How could he speak his own full name to her? In the palace, he was only known as the lord vizier Scarab. Before though, he had been Scarab Mutemwiya, the first-born son, sent to a noble family as a fosterling so that he might prosper and bring pride to the family. Sadly, though, Scarab had disgraced himself before making his way to the palace where he would be an unknown. His father's angry words still twisted in his gut like a dagger. "You are no son of mine." 

Beneath the blankets, Scarab could feel Rathera stirring. As always, Rathera automatically tensed, reaching for her weapons as she awoke, a movement which still disconcerted her lover. Realizing where she lay, Rathera smiled up at Scarab and kissed him tenderly. Pulling away slightly, Scarab motioned towards the breakfast his servant, Rhett, had brought up earlier. 

Rhett, unlike most of the servants in the palace, reported directly to Scarab. When Scarab had first risen to position of vizier, Amenhotep advised him to take at least one servant, saying it was unseemly for a man of his station to be without attendants. Now, Scarab found himself grateful for Rhett's presence. Rhett knew enough not to gossip about his master's affairs, and often anticipated Scarab's desires. _'Almost,'_ thought Scarab, _'as though he knew what I was going to ask before I asked it.'_

As he nibbled on a pomegranate wedge, Scarab once again found himself trying to broach the subject. "Rathera, I... I have something to tell you." Gazing into her dark eyes, the words stuck in his throat as they had a thousand times before. So close! He was so close to telling her, held back only by the fear of losing the one true love of his life. Forcing a playful smile, Scarab whispered, "But now is not the time." 

"And when will the time be?" Rathera laughed, her eyebrows shooting up questioningly. Privately, she admitted that she was annoyed with the vizier. This wasn't the first time he'd begun to say something while looking as though the Trackers of Souls were chasing him, only to suddenly smile and laugh it off. She noticed the hunted look flicker briefly across Scarab's face before he answered jokingly, "When I become pharaoh." They both laugh, somewhat uncomfortably, over the vizier's half-hearted jest. 

After breakfast, Rathera stood with an almost shy and partly apologetic smile. Pressing close to her lover, she sighed. "What I wouldn't give, Scarab, to spend all day with you and only you. However, duty calls... In the form of an annoying young prince so used to being waited on hand and foot that he probably couldn't even manage to dress properly by himself if he had to!" 

Scarab murmured quietly, "Careful, my dear. Your prejudices are showing." With one final kiss, a quick peck which contrasted sharply with the previous night's love-making, Scarab watched Rathera leave to go off to her duties. The moment Rathera was out of sight, Scarab seemed almost to deflate. He knew it was becoming harder and harder to not tell her his secret. One of these days, she would find out and then... And then... _'She will leave me,'_ Scarab thought. 

Scarab turned to get ready for the day's work, only to find Rhett standing behind him al ready holding out a fresh kilt. With a startled yelp, Scarab snatched the kilt from Rhett. "Must you always sneak up on me like that?" he exclaimed as he dressed, otherwise seeming almost oblivious to the other man's presence. Knowing that a response would only anger his master more, Rhett remained silent, and sure enough, Scarab's mood passed as quickly as the summer storms. 

All throughout the day, while listening to suppliants come to see the pharaoh and determining who was worthy to speak with the Living Horus and who was not, Scarab found his mind returning time and time again to what he'd said earlier. _'When I become Pharaoh,'_ he thought to himself. _'It's not all that unfeasible. If something were to happen to Rapses, I would be next in line for the throne, and if something were to happen to Amenhotep...'_ Scarab quickly pulled his mind from such treasonous thoughts, but still, like a horse being led to water, he found himself thinking about it again. _'And why should I not be Pharaoh? I already practically run the palace. Most importantly though, if I were Pharaoh, I could tell Rathera my secret without fear and then maybe wed her if she'll still have me. But what woman would say no to the Pharaoh? Besides, it has not been unheard of for past pharaoh's to wed within the family.'_ By the time the last petitioner had left, Scarab was only mildly surprised to find that he had indeed made up his mind to destroy the royal family. 

*~*~*~*~*

Rathera glanced around furtively as she entered the Temple of Mesenet. She hated having to sneak around Scarab's back, but if she had told him her plans to come by this particular temple, Scarab would easily have guessed her reasons. Pausing at the altar table, she bowed and murmured a quick prayer to the stone form of the goddess beyond it. The flickering torchlight made it seem as though the double coil over the goddess's head lived, writhing in the shadows overhead. The sound of chanting in the background lent the temple an unearthly quality, as did the smell of burning incense. 

To Rathera's right, gauzy curtains parted and from the temple depths came a priestess whose features might have been carved from the same stone as the goddess's image. Rathera suppressed a surge of jealousy as she took in the priestess's perfect oval face, full ruby lips, and wealth of dark hair coiled doubly on the top of her head in imitation of the goddess. 

The priestess circled Rathera slowly, studying the young guardian coolly. Self-consciously, Rathera stood a little straighter and smoothed the wrinkles out of her kilt. Finally, after almost unendurable silence, the priestess spoke. "I congratulate you on the new ka that the goddess has chosen to form within you." Rathera blanched, her face going deathly white at the priestess's confirmation of her worst fears. 

Rathera turned and fled the temple, stumbling once on the steps leading outside. The moment she reached the sandy streets, Rathera began running, her leather sandals pounding the ground with the strength of her fury and shame. Passers-by were a blur to her tear-filled eyes as she pushed her way through them. Their angry shouts reached her ears only as a dull roar. 

Scarab! She had to see Scarab! They would wed this very night! Rathera dashed into the palace, the marble tiles echoing her hurried footfalls. Once Rathera thought she caught a glimpse of her brother's bright green and gold henhet, but she didn't stop to be sure. The last thing Rathera needed to hear right now was one of Rath's lectures on ladylike behavior. 

After what seemed an eternity of running, Rathera finally barged into Scarab's quarters, calling frantically for her lover. "Scarab! Scarab! Where are you? I need you!" No answer came, however. _'Of course Scarab wouldn't be in yet,'_ she suddenly realized. _'It is still early in the day.'_

Rathera collapsed on the feather-stuffed cushions she and Scarab had lain upon the night before, sobbing and laughing hysterically. The subtle smell of Scarab's scented oils still clung to the cushions. "I hate you!" she screamed, taking her fury out on the innocent cushions. Even as the words left her mouth, though, Rathera knew them for a lie. 

Rathera pounded again and again at the cushions. Soft feathers flew all around her, but she merely brushed them away. A soft voice pierced through her rage. "Lady Rathera?" Rathera spun to see Rhett's slim form braced in the doorway, his eyes asking a million questions. Only slowly did Rathera become aware of the dagger in her hand, and she just stared at it, puzzled because she couldn't remember drawing it. Glancing guiltily down at the cushions, Rathera saw they had been cut, stabbed, and slashed to ribbons. 

In a few easy strides, Rhett crossed the room to Rathera and quickly caught her wrist in one hand. With his other hand, Rhett took the dagger from her before she could do any more damage with it. "I'm pregnant, Rhett," Rathera whispered. She marveled at how easily the dreaded words came to her. "I'm pregnant, and Scarab never wants to talk about marriage, and now that he's sown his seed he'll leave me, and I'll be all alone, and what am I going to do?" Long, shuddering sobs wracked her thin frame as she poured her heart out to Scarab's servant. 

For a time, Rhett just stared at Rathera, uncertain of what to say. Finally, he sat down on the ruined cushions, placing the dagger on the floor, and motioned for Rathera to sit as well. He spoke softly, forcing Rathera to listen closely to what he had to say. "Scarab loves you dearly, Rathera. You should know this better than anyone. Even if he does not marry you, he will never abandon you." Slowly Rhett once again rose to his feet. "I must get back to work now. Please, think on what I said, and if you need me, call." 

Rathera stared after Rhett, amazed by the comfort she felt from his simple words. "He will never abandon me," she whispered softly to herself. Placing her hand over her abdomen where the new life within her slowly grew, she quickly corrected herself. "He will never abandon us." From the doorway, Rhett smiled sadly as he watched, wishing that all of life's problems could be solved so easily. 

*~*~*~*~*

Scarab slowly made his way back to his quarters, exhausted from the day's work. His golden serpent-shaped staff tapped out a wearied counter-point to his steps. Pausing in the hallway, he rubbed his aching eyes with his ink-stained fingers. If he had to read over another document today, he was going to scream. Scarab shook his head with a sigh, knowing that this was just a brief respite. He had to hurry and get ready for the Pharaoh's dinner. He privately loathed these events, knowing that his time could be better spent not entertaining the many priests and diplomats that came to fawn over Amenhotep in the hope of gaining favors. 

For the first time, Scarab became aware of Rath sitting out in the hall, his small scribe's table laying over his lap. The scribe's quill pen moved quickly across a piece of papyrus, slowing only long enough to be dipped momentarily into the ink. Curious, Scarab stepped over so that he could see what held Rath's attention so. As his shadow fell across the parchment, Rath looked up in surprise. "Lord Scarab!" he gasped. "Please forgive me. I did not see you there." 

Shaking his head, Scarab replied, "There is nothing that needs forgiving. I only wished to see what you were writing." Now he could see quite clearly that Rath was working on a letter. "You are writing home?" 

Rath nodded quickly, his tall henhet falling over his eyes. Pushing it back into place, he explained, "Father wishes to be kept updated on the happenings in the palace, especially where my sister is concerned. He does not quite approve of her presence here." Something in Rath's tone told Scarab that the young scribe did not necessarily disagree with his father. Scarab started to take a step towards his room, when Rath called out, "Lord Scarab, wait! Rathera spends a great deal of time with you. There is nothing inappropriate going on between you, is there?" 

Scarab turned with a smile, feeling a mischievous streak rise up within him. "I look after Rathera as if she was my own little sister," he answered. "She came to me to learn the magic that _others_ would not teach her, and now devours every scrap of knowledge I can give her." Scarab experienced a perverse sense of pleasure as he watched Rath wince at the none too subtle insult. Before continuing on to his quarters, Scarab added politely, "Please send your family my regards and wishes of good health." 

The vizier left Rath writing out his letters, and, quickening his pace to make up for the time spent with the young scribe, rushed into his rooms. As Scarab stepped through the doorway, he got the distinct impression that something wasn't right. His staff twisted in his hands to scan the room, showing the first signs of sentience that day. "Easy, Heka," Scarab murmured, running a soothing hand across the golden cobra's hood. 

The torches had been allowed to burn down, leaving the room cast in darkness and vague shadows. Scarab carefully made his way through the room to a rough wooden table. Running his hands over the tabletop, he found the bowl of naphtha he kept there for late nights. He took it and felt his way to the nearest torch-holder, which he refilled. Heka spat out a small flame to re-light the torch. 

The torch sprang to life, pushing back the darkness somewhat and allowing Scarab to see that there was nothing out of the ordinary in his main living quarters. That left only his bedroom and his laboratory. Grabbing a candle from a shelf, Scarab lit it on the torch, then peered into his lab. Nothing. The lab was exactly as he had left it this morning. Pulling back into the main room, Scarab stared at the entrance to his sleeping quarters. 

With only the one room left to check, Scarab began to believe his suspicions had been nothing more than the product of an over-active imagination. Standing among the eerily dancing shadows, one couldn't be sure of anything. Still, Scarab carefully stepped into the entrance of his room, thrusting the candle ahead of him. 

Scarab gasped at the sight which met his eyes. Shredded cloth and feathers littered the floor. A figure lay still among the mess. Whether dead or alive Scarab couldn't tell. A familiar dagger could be seen near the body. Scarab silently thanked every deity that came to mind that there was no blood upon the blade. His thanks, however, turned to prayers and pleas of desperation as he recognized the figure's dark tangle of hair. 

Kneeling down beside Rathera, Scarab pushed the hair out of her face and felt for a pulse, which to his relief still beat strong and steady. _'She lives,'_ he thought ecstatically. _'She lives!'_ Gently, Scarab brushed his hand over her cheeks, noting that they were sticky with dried tears. 

Rathera's eyes flew open suddenly. In one quick fluid movement, she pinned Scarab to the ground, a dagger at his throat. The cold blade bit sharply into Scarab's skin, but he did not struggle against his attacker. As Rathera's eyes adjusted to the dim light and she recognized who she held beneath her, she let the dagger slip numbly from her fingers and buried her face into Scarab's chest. Scarab could hear her speaking, but her words were so muffled he couldn't understand them. 

Sitting up, Scarab wrapped his arms around Rathera and began rocking her back and forth until she was calm. Once she had composed herself, Scarab began questioning her. "What happened in here? Who did this? What did they want? You aren't hurt, are you?" The questions flew at her quickly, each one loaded with Scarab's anxiety. 

With a soft weary laugh, Rathera placed a finger on Scarab's lips to silence him. "No," Rathera began, choosing start with the question that obviously caused Scarab the most worry. "I'm not hurt. I just found out something today; something which upset me greatly. I'm the cause of this mess." 

A quick shudder passed through Scarab. _'She couldn't possibly know,'_ he told himself. Still, what else could be the cause of that haunted look in her eyes? Scarab felt that she had to have found out somehow. "Look, Rathera," he began. "I can explain. I should have told you a long time ago but..." 

Rathera cocked her head from side to side, looking absolutely bewildered. "You knew I was pregnant?" she interrupted. Scarab pulled away slightly with a sharp intake of breath, and Rathera began silently cursing herself for speaking up. His reaction told her plainly enough that he hadn't known, and that he had been about to say something else. _'Was it going to be what he wouldn't tell me this morning?'_ she wondered briefly. 

Staring at Rathera in wonderment, Scarab put all thoughts of what this news could bring about from his mind. He placed a hand over Rathera's stomach carefully as though she were a creation of spun glass that would shatter at the slightest touch. "I'm going to be a father?" Rathera nodded expectantly, hoping desperately that the next thing he asked would be for her to marry him. Scarab said nothing though as he stroked her abdomen, imagining that he could almost feel the baby's heartbeat. Now, Scarab knew he could never tell Rathera the secret that burned within him, and, with a sigh, he whispered, "No one can know." 

Rathera stared at her lover, sadness gripping her heart at his words. Scarab had made his decision so quickly, and soon the whole court would know her disgrace. She stifled a sob as she thought of the courtiers and other palace folk gossiping behind her back about her fatherless child, with Scarab watching on and saying nothing to preserve his own dignity. "Please, Scarab, no! You can't leave me! You can't!" she wailed, striking weakly at him with her fists. 

With astonishing speed, Scarab grabbed Rathera's arms, forcing them to her sides so harshly that it was all Rathera could do to keep from crying out. "For once in your life just listen to me," he hissed between clenched teeth. "I have no intention of leaving you. But I have plans, Rathera; big plans which a child will only hinder. I know you want me to marry you, but I just can't. Now is not the time." 

Experiencing a strange sensation of dejá vu, Rathera found herself asking, "And when will be the time?" This time, though, there was no joking when Scarab answered, "When I become pharaoh." Rathera shook her head, not able to believe what she was hearing. Amenhotep was far from being ill, and Rapses, though extremely young at the tender age of four, couldn't be in better health. The only way Scarab could hope to rule was if something happened to both the current pharaoh and his son, and it was doubtful anything would happen unless... Rathera's eyes widened. _'Unless someone killed them.'_

Rathera slid back away from Scarab, scraping her hands on the cold floor. Filled with the horror of what she felt her lover was contemplating, Rathera couldn't take her eyes off of Scarab. Neither did she trust herself to speak. This strange, silent tableau might easily have lasted an eternity if, from Scarab's living quarters, Rhett had not called out, "Lord Scarab, the Pharaoh requires your presence at his table." 

Slowly, Scarab rose to his feet. "Please, Rathera, wait for me to return. We have much to discuss." Leaning over, he brushed his lips lightly against her forehead. Then, pausing only long enough to dip his fingers into a basin of scented water and flick the droplets on his face, Scarab left to follow Rhett to the supper. 

*~*~*~*~*

Rhett kept a careful eye on his master as they made their way to the dining hall. Surely Rathera had given Scarab the news, yet the vizier appeared no different than he had on any other night. Rhett shook his head with a frown. Even though he had no proof, Rhett sensed that something was definitely amiss. 

Rhett stopped at the huge double doors inlaid with gold and knelt down until his forehead touched the floor. Scarab casually strolled past without even giving his servant a backwards glance, and, when the doors were shut, Rhett stood once again. Sighing, Rhett began the walk to the servant's kitchen. 

Even though he knew he had no place at Amenhotep's table, Rhett longed to know, just once, what it was like to be served instead of serving, the weight of opulent jewels, the taste of rich food. But Rhett was a slave, bound only to his master's wishes. Those dreams he harbored meant nothing. 

_'And what of love?'_ Rhett asked himself. His sort of love was considered unnatural, and therefore he kept it hidden, even from the very object of his affections. The very thought of Armon sharing Rhett's feelings was absurd beyond belief. Ra knew the burly soldier had his pick of women to choose from. They flocked around him like birds to bread crumbs. 

Rounding the corner, Rhett very nearly collided with the very man that occupied his thoughts most often. Armon's hand shot out and caught Rhett's shoulder in it's strong grip to keep him from falling. "Careful there," he cautioned with a smile. Trembling, Rhett stuttered, "M-my humblest-t ap-apologies." Then, with a quick burst of speed, he dashed around the corner and out of sight. 

"Breathe, breathe," Rhett muttered to himself, leaning against the wall. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs, still filled with giddy excitement. Armon had smiled at _him_, the lowly servant no one else even bothered to pay attention to. All thoughts of Scarab, Rathera, and babies melted from Rhett's mind. 

*~*~*~*~*

Rathera once again found herself alone again. No, not quite alone. Scarab had left Heka behind to keep her company. The snake was not Rathera's first choice for a companion, but not her last either. Heka waited patiently for Rathera to initiate a conversation, but when the guardian kept silent, took the burden upon herself. "What are your plans for the child?" 

Rathera winced, knowing that Heka had asked the one question that had been going through her mind all day, and she still had no answer. Scarab had made it quite plain that he wasn't going to acknowledge the child as his own, at least not until he became pharaoh. She shook her head at such a ridiculous notion, now almost certain that he had been joking. 

But the child? What was she going to do about it? She still had time before it became noticeable. Hopefully she could think of something before then, maybe even convince Scarab to marry her after all. Suddenly realizing that Heka was still waiting for an answer, Rathera decided that in this case the truth wouldn't hurt. "I have no idea, Heka. No idea at all." 

Confusion flooded Rathera as she stared at the flickering candle flame. He had said that he wasn't going to leave her, but he had also said that no one could know. Which was she to believe? Heka offered no answers, merely nodding her head as though she had known all along what Rathera's answer would be. The cobra slithered over to Rathera, her scales gleaming slightly in the dim light, and the mage took her up as she had seen Scarab do many times. 

Holding Heka straight, Rathera pulled herself up off the floor and went into Scarab's main quarters. She found Rhett had been thoughtful enough to lay out some supper for her. It was simple enough fare; a variety of fruits, some bread, strips of dried meat, and a sweet wine. Yet the sight was enough to make Rathera's mouth water as she realized she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. She quickly tore into the bread, devouring every last crumb, and was about to start on the fruit when she began to wonder whether or not Heka needed to eat anything. 

In all the time since Scarab had received Heka as a gift from one of his old teachers, an ageless man known to the court as Nefray-ou, Rathera had never seen Heka eat anything, but that didn't mean, of course, that the snake didn't eat. Hesitantly, Rathera offered a fig to Heka. The snake merely laughed and shook her hooded head. "My appetites run along the same lines as the appetites of other cobras," she explained, a slight wistfulness in her voice both piquing Rathera's curiosity and at the same time brooking no questions. Setting the fig down, Rathera started handing Heka the strips of jerky which the cobra took gratefully. 

Both guardian and cobra ate in an uncomfortable silence. Neither knew what to say to the other, so each gave over to their own thoughts. Rathera began considering her future. Maybe she could leave the palace, and go someplace where she wasn't known. She could tell people that her husband had died in an accident, leaving her to raise their child alone. No one need know that she had never been married. But that meant leaving Scarab, an option she refused to accept. 

*~*~*~*~*

Scarab entered the dining hall at a slow, steady pace which befitted his station. He carefully kept his face a blank mask when he saw Amenhotep glance sharply at him. Scarab silently took his seat at the pharaoh's table and began looking around, taking note of the guests for the first time. 

The current Captain of the Hunt, a loud and boorish man in desperate need of a bath, sat directly across from Scarab. The captain's small, piggish eyes glittered as he finished telling his two companions about a lewd and probably entirely fictitious adventure involving one of the serving wenches. The captain finished his tale by bursting into ribald laughter. 

Scarab shuddered and turned his attention from the captain to the captain's companions, looking almost relieved that neither of the men shared in the captain's merriment. There seemed to be nothing special about them, and Scarab couldn't figure out why they were sitting at the pharaoh's table. A cursory glance was all it took to tell that they were related, brothers most likely. Both men were of medium build, with the exact same square jaw. Both also wore the gold bands on their upper arms that showed they belonged to the pharaoh's hunters. The older let his dark hair hang loose about his shoulders, while the younger wore a gold helmet ornamented with blue trim. 

Amenhotep's soft voice intruded on Scarab's thoughts. "So good of you to join us, Lord Vizier." Scarab winced at the gentle rebuke, knowing that once he and Amenhotep were alone, the scolding would not be quite so gentle. "Had you been here at the appointed time," Amenhotep continued, "Then you would have joined me in congratulating the latest man to come through the Challenge of the Maze. Lord Scarab, I would like to present to you the hunter Ja-Kal, my son's newest guardian." The helmeted man inclined his head politely, and Scarab returned the gesture. 

The older brother scowled as Amenhotep turned to speak with one of his generals about the latest Nubian uprising. Sensing the cause of his brother's anger, Ja-Kal motioned for Scarab's attention with a quick fluttering gesture of his hand. "Forgive my boldness, Lord Scarab, but I would like you to meet my brother Arakh. He also took up the Challenge of the Maze today." The words _but failed_ hung ominously in the air between the three men. 

Scarab nodded courteously to Arakh, taking note of the bitter resentment on his face. _'That one,'_ the vizier thought to himself, _'might prove useful one day.'_ Already, Scarab could see the sparks of hatred starting to ignite in Arakh. Scarab knew that look well, for it was the same one he had seen so long ago on his father's face before being cast away. 

Brief snatches of the memory flashed through Scarab's mind. He had been a small child, always able to fit in places most would never think to look in the children's hiding games. If he had known what he was going to see on _that_ day though, he would have chosen someplace else to hide. He never expected that his father would come into the stables, bringing a woman with him. Scarab had watched his father do things with the woman that his young mind was not prepared to understand. As his father had rolled off of the woman, a small squeak escaped from Scarab as he recognized her sweat-streaked face. 

Scarab quickly pulled his mind away from the past to focus once more on Amenhotep's table. As a boy, Scarab had not fully understood the importance of what had happened there or how best to use that information. Experience had been a brutal teacher, but now, as a man, Scarab knew how to make use of even the tiniest scrap of information. Yes, one day Arakh's hatred would grow and overpower him. Scarab could see that much. And on that day, Arakh would become a fitting tool. 

Turning, Scarab began studying the other diners, once again trying to take his mind off of Rathera's news. The young prince, Rapses, was causing his nursemaid difficulties again as she tried to get him to eat. Rapses, however, kept turning his little nose up at whatever she offered. Scowling furiously, Scarab cleared his throat softly to get the prince's attention. When Rapses looked over in Scarab's direction, he instantly sat up a bit straighter and began accepting the offered food. Scarab went back to eating, carefully trying to conceal a smile from the boy. The prince might not like him, but that was in part because Scarab had made it quite clear that he would brook no trouble from the boy. Secretly, Scarab dreaded the day when Rapses fully realized that he had power over everyone in the kingdom, even Scarab himself. 

Rathera's plight once again intruded on Scarab's consciousness. He had no idea what he was going to do about it. He could never leave her, so tight a hold did she have over his heart. Yet if anyone found out that he was the baby's father a scandal would ensue, especially when considering the other facts that would come to light if he was discovered. Could they possibly hide the baby? It would be difficult. Scarab would have to find some way to get Rathera out of the palace before it became too obvious that she was pregnant. 

"An ambassador to Nubia would probably be our best chance at restoring peace," Amenhotep was saying. The words tugged at Scarab's brain. Nubia was far away, so very far away. Distance meant safety, and no fears of discovery. Slowly, Scarab began to insinuate himself into Amenhotep's conversation, bringing up the tiny nuggets of information he had garnered about Nubia over the years: economy, climate, customs. Before he knew it, Amenhotep was giving him the orders he so longed to hear. "Scarab, I want you to go to Nubia. Take with you those people you feel will be necessary." With a slight smile, the Pharaoh added, "Without depopulating the palace of course." 

It was all Scarab could do to keep from leaping out of his chair and embracing his Pharaoh. What Amenhotep most likely thought of as a prudent move and possible punishment for Scarab's tardiness, the vizier knew to be the much-needed escape. Now he would be safe from discovery. Already, Scarab was planning the lies necessary to explain Rathera's condition to the Nubian officials. 

As soon as the meal ended, Scarab hastened from the dining hall back to his chambers. Much to Scarab's surprise, Rathera had fallen asleep again, this time at the table, her head pillowed on her arms. Heka lay curled up in Rathera's lap. Knowing what a tiring day she'd had, Scarab almost hated to wake her. Silently, he went to his sleeping quarters and brought out a blanket which he draped across Rathera's shoulders. She never once stirred. _'Tomorrow,'_ Scarab thought. _'I'll tell her tomorrow.'_


	2. Blood Ties

**Disclaimer:** Usual routine. Mummies Alive is property of DIC Entertainment. I will probably make references to the book _Shadow Hawk_ by Andre Norton in this chapter and chapters to follow. No copyright infringement is intended. _Shadow Hawk_ is a must read for anyone interested in ancient Egypt. Rhett belongs to Cyrus and Rathera is Rathera's character, and a great big thank you goes out to them for letting me use their characters in this story. This story is not part of the normal MA fic-verse, which is kind of obvious if you take note of the way I fiddle with some character histories to make them fit the story better.Also, don't look for accurate historical facts in this fic.If there's something I don't know, I make it up.If you've actually read down this far, then I ask you to please take note of the warning which will appear at the beginning of all chapters of Scarab Saga.I really don't care about the ages of whoever reads this because I feel that if you think you can handle it, then you can read it.However, I wouldn't want to be accused of warping the minds of young children and/or destroying their faith in their favorite characters, so I now give you a brief warning of what to expect in Scarab Saga. 

**Warning:**This story contains mature themes not suitable for young children.So, if you have a problem with the portrayal (either directly stated or implied) of sex, blood, murder, violence, incest, and homosexuality then go find something else to read.

**Author's Note:** This chapter takes place a couple of weeks after where chapter 1 left off. 

**The Scarab Saga – Chapter 2: Blood Ties**

Rath's eyes traveled over the letter he had already read countless times. In his cramped room, the droning buzz of a fly sounded impossibly loud, but could not interrupt the scribe's concentration. Rath sat silently, trying to divine the reason for his father's anger in the terse script. The letter, however, offered no answers; only more questions. 

Rath's last letter home had been nothing really out of the ordinary. It told of the normal palace gossip and gave assurances that his sister was not disgracing the family. The most unusual part of the letter was where the lord vizier Scarab had sent his good wishes. At the time, Rath hadn't thought of such a polite request as out of the ordinary. Now though, reading his father's words, Rath could only wonder. _'Never mention that man's name to me again!'_ the letter ordered. 

The command was easy enough to understand and to follow, but the reasons behind it seemed almost unfathomable. Lord Scarab had never before given any sign of knowing Rath's family before, yet there was almost no doubt that in Rath's mind that some meeting had happened sometime between Rath's father and Lord Scarab in which a conflict had arisen. 

Rath shook his head over the puzzle. Did he dare question Lord Scarab? _'No,'_ Rath decided. _'It is not my place.'_ Still, as he folded the already worn piece of papyrus, the scribe found himself trying to concoct a reason to show the letter to Lord Scarab. Whatever Rath decided to do about the letter, he knew, would be settled tonight. Lord Scarab would leave for Nubia at sunset. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Scarab stepped solemnly out onto the balcony for his last view of Thebes before leaving for Nubia. A stiff breeze thrust itself at his henhet. Rather than risk losing the tall hat, Scarab took it off and set it on the ground by his feet. Leaning against the carved stone railing, Scarab gazed at the city stretching out before him. 

The breeze brushed against his bared head like a lover's caress and whistled past his ears, carrying with it the sounds of the city below. A sharp pang of homesickness wrenched sharply at Scarab. He would miss this city that had been his home for so many years. In a few hours, the sun would sink below the horizon, and Scarab, accompanied by the only woman he had ever truly loved, would begin traveling across the red sands of the desert to far-off Nubia. 

Amenhotep thought that Scarab was going to Nubia merely as a peace ambassador. Little did the Living Horus suspect that Scarab had his own motives for leaving. _'And when I return from Nubia,'_ Scarab swore to himself,_ 'Both Amenhotep's and Rapses's lives shall be cut short, and I shall rule!'_ Once Scarab became pharaoh, he would proclaim Rathera his wife. Then, their child, which Scarab felt certain would be a son, would become heir. 

"Lord Scarab?" The soft voice broke into Scarab's reveries. Whirling around quickly, arms up to defend himself, Scarab found himself face-to-face with Rhett, and quickly became embarrassed that he had allowed himself to be startled so easily. Rhett, for his part, pretended not to notice his master's discomfiture. "The Pharaoh wishes to know if you are ready, my lord," Rhett said with a bow. 

Scarab turned away to take one last look at the city, trying to burn every last detail into his memory. Long silent moments passed, broken only by the sound of Rhett shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. Finally, without bothering to turn around and face Rhett directly, Scarab answered, "Tell the Chosen of Ra that I am indeed ready." Rhett left his master quickly, seeming almost to vanish. Any watchers, though, would have noticed him rushing through the shadowed halls with his quick, ground eating pace. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Rathera waited impatiently by the palace gates for Scarab. Several soldiers and some attendants milled around the small square as well. Everyone appeared to be all packed and ready. All they lacked was the man they were supposed to be escorting. Scarab, much to her intense annoyance, had yet to show himself. 

One of the charioteers, Nefer, a young man Rathera barely knew though he was a member of Rapses's guardians, strolled past leading a horse. The great beast's glossy black coat shone like fire in the orange glow of the setting sun, and Rathera could have sworn it cast her a malevolent look as it followed Nefer to the waiting chariot. 

Rathera watched as Nefer skillfully harnessed the horse to the chariot. Why anyone would voluntarily work with those four-footed menaces, Rathera would never understand. Quite frankly, horses terrified her. Rathera was grateful that Scarab had arranged for her to ride in a chariot instead of on one of the horses. She only wished that she had been able to talk Scarab into letting her travel in a litter instead so that she need not be near the horses, but he had drawn the line there claiming that it would be too suspicious. 

Rathera could almost swear that the horse never stopped watching her, and she shivered, knowing that this was going to be a long trip. Nefer finished harnessing the horse and approached Rathera. "How much longer do you think the vizier will be?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly. 

Rathera merely shrugged, not really in the mood to speak to the boy. Even as she gave her silent answer, Scarab came out of the palace. Rathera craned her neck slightly for a better view as she saw Rath following behind Scarab. 

Rath ran up to Scarab, had the audacity to grab the vizier by the shoulder, and spun Scarab around to face him. _'Scarab's going to kill him for that!'_ Rathera thought. Much to her surprise though, Scarab only smiled as Rath thrust a piece of papyrus at him. After reading over the parchment, Scarab said something to Rath, and calmly ripped up the paper, scattering the pieces to the wind. Seeing the look on Rath's face, Rathera would've given anything to know what Scarab had told her brother. 

Scarab neared Rathera, acting as if nothing had happened. His smooth easy gait ate up the distance between them. A groom led a horse to Scarab, and the vizier took the reins. Patting the horse's neck to calm it, Scarab easily swung himself over the horse's back. The horse pawed the earth skittishly, it's hooves seeming sharp and dangerous to Rathera. 

So intently was Rathera watching Scarab that she didn't notice Rhett until he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Time for us to go, Lady Rathera," Rhett murmured. Rathera shook her head as though awakening from a long sleep. Following Rhett, her pace slowed as she approached the horse and chariot. Already, Rathera could feel her stomach doing flip-flops. Morning sickness was bad enough without adding motion sickness to it. With a sigh, Rathera realized that this was going to be a long trip. 

Silently, Rathera stepped into the chariot, not even bothering to look at Nefer as she gripped the outer edge so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Easy there," Nefer laughed, speaking almost as though he were talking to one of his horses. "We've not even started the journey yet." Rathera loosened up her hold just a bit and closed her eyes, wishing she could close her nose to the musty smell of horse as easily. 

Because she had nothing better to do, Rathera began to compose the party in her mind. There would be three warriors armed with bow and spear both in front and in back to protect the group from attacks by roving bands of Bwedanii. Rhett, acting according to Scarab's orders would stay close to her and attend on her needs. Finally, when not scouring the desert for extra food to go with the packed rations, Arakh would most likely be found near Scarab. Traveling would be done in the early morning and at night, while during the hottest part of the day they would all rest. 

Rathera nodded silently to herself, pleased at how well Scarab had worked out the travel arrangements. Pharaoh had insisted that they go to Nubia by boat, but Scarab had shrewdly pointed out that a trip by land would give him the chance to better observe the conditions of Nubia. Amazingly, Amenhotep had agreed, never once suspecting that Scarab's actual reason for a land trip was that it would take more time. 

If Scarab felt that he could keep negotiations with Nubia going long enough for Rathera to have her baby, then she knew he could. The vizier was a veritable master of foreign relations. No doubt Scarab intended on establishing a few alliances from which he alone would profit as well. 

Much to Rathera's surprise, Nefer began cursing at the pace being set by the advance guard. "Surely you can't want to go faster?" Rathera gasped, finding the notion inconceivable since the small chariot was moving at a speed she'd previously thought impossible. Before Nefer could answer though, he had to catch Rathera as she nearly fell. Rathera closed her eyes and held tightly to the slender young man. Taking long shuddering breaths, Rathera prayed fervently that she wouldn't become ill on the long trip ahead. The swaying and jolting of the chariot, however, seemed determined to thwart her resolve. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Scarab sat thoughtfully upon the sand, his mind already playing out the intricate game that would begin when the group entered Nubia tomorrow. A border patrol of Nubian archers would meet them. _'How many?'_ he asked himself. "Too few will be an insult, showing we are not highly regarded. "Too many will be seen as a show of force designed to cover a weak position," Scarab murmured. At a guess, Scarab figured that the Nubian government would try to match the number in Scarab's own party. 

Politics were Scarab's life. The infinite complexities delighted him, and he knew there was no greater game. He could almost picture the upcoming negotiations, guessing at the arguments of the Nubian government and tailoring his own responses, to which he then prepared even more ways to counter any resistance to the ideas he proposed. 

Huddled by the vizier's side, Rathera stirred slightly. Not caring who saw, Scarab wrapped an arm protectively around Rathera's shoulders. He never would have guessed that the trip would have been so hard on her. As she slept, Scarab ran his fingers through her hair, wishing that he did not have to awaken her. "Rathera," Scarab whispered. "Rathera, we must leave now." 

Rathera groaned softly, a tormented sound that wrenched Scarab's heart. The dark rings under Rathera's eyes attested to the minuscule amount of sleep she had gotten on the journey. Shaking his head sadly, Scarab wished he could have found an easier way to travel. He consoled himself with the knowledge that when they got to Semna, they would be able to rest. 

Scarab shook his head to rouse himself from his reverie. Once again he tried to awaken Rathera. "Arise, sister," he murmured, knowing that she would accept the title merely as a sign of familiarity instead of reading into it the truth it hid. This time Rathera's eyes did flutter open. Scarab passed Rathera a piece of hard bread, which she washed down with sour tasting water. The soldier's rations they had been living on had been well augmented by Arakh's hunting skills, but the simple fare still proved unsatisfying. "Soon," Scarab promised. "We shall be in Semna where we can wash off all these layers of travel dirt and feast upon a decent meal." 

Slowly, Rathera rose, leaning her weight against Scarab. As Scarab led his beloved to the chariot, Arakh came skidding down a hill, trailing up a cloud of dust behind him. Slung over his shoulder the hunter carried a fowl he had killed for their next meal, but that was not the reason for his excitement. Dashing over to Scarab's side, Arakh began chattering quickly, trying to get his news out in a rush. "The Border Patrol!" he gasped, swilling down water. "I saw them! Ten warriors, all armed with those funny Nubian bows." 

Scarab nodded to himself, his guess about the size of the Nubian escort proved correct. Should violence break out, the fighters would be nearly evenly matched then, though combat from a distance would give the Nubians the advantage for their "funny Nubian bows" had a greater range than the Egyptian ones. Though violence was not expected, Scarab decided it would be best to proceed with caution. A sudden thought struck Scarab. "Arakh, what sort of fletching did their arrows have?" 

Arakh shook his head at the unexpected question. "I... I did not see, Lord Scarab. I just took a count of their warriors and came to report to you right away." 

Hissing angrily through clenched teeth, Scarab swung his staff at Arakh. "Set take you!" he cursed. "Our very lives could depend on those arrows, and you pay no attention to them whatsoever!" As Arakh stuttered apologies, Scarab struggled to regain control of his temper. 

Scarab should have known though that the impulsive hunter would miss such a tiny detail. He knew though that if the Border Patrol's arrows bore the fletching of the Bwedanii then they were setting up an ambush within the Egyptian borders. However, if the arrows bore proper Nubian fletching, then the Patrol had been sent into Egypt to make certain that Scarab's party arrived safely in Semna. Perhaps there was some danger ahead that the Border Patrol had come to warn about. 

Shaking his head at all the possibilities, Scarab began to slowly formulate a plan. He spun around quickly on his heel to face the nervous warriors. "You six," he told the escort, "will begin setting up fortifications. Use whatever you can find to make this place secure." The warriors quickly scattered and set to work transforming the harsh desert environs into a defensible camp. 

With the first part of his plan underway, Scarab began preparing phase two. "Go to the Border Patrol's camp," he commanded Rhett with more courage than he felt. "Go unarmed as a sign of good faith and arrange for a meeting between myself and the commander. Neither side is to bring troops. And for Ra's sake, do your best to see what kind of fletching their arrows have!" Rhett nodded and scampered off across the sand dunes. 

Now Scarab found himself facing Nefer and Arakh, the two awaiting their orders. "I need both of you to be well-rested. When I go to meet the Nubian captain, I want Arakh to accompany me and watch from a distance. Should any sort of betrayal occur, get back to camp and alert Nefer. Boy," he said to Nefer, "if Arakh should come with news of betrayal, take the freshest horse and ride back to Thebes. If possible, take Rathera with you." 

Scarab had done all that he could do for now, and now all he could do was wait. Slowly, he sank down to sit upon the sand and stare out at the horizon, awaiting Rhett's return. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Even with his seer's Sight telling him he had a future beyond this day, Rhett couldn't suppress his nervousness. Two of the Nubian archers aimed arrows straight at him as he entered the encampment. The others began scanning the horizon for any troops that might have followed Rhett. 

Rhett stood as still as a stone as he faced the Nubians. He knew that his very life depended on how well Scarab had guessed their intentions. Belatedly, he remembered to take a good look at the arrows; white fletching, he saw but did not understand what it meant. 

A tall, sharp-featured man approached Rhett, his easy rolling stride like that of a wildcat's. He wore an intricately detailed silver bracer and carried a captain's sistrum, ready at any moment to signal his men. Rhett spread his hands slowly. "I am unarmed," he told the Nubians. 

The captain's stony features split into a wide grin. "Then you are a fool, Egyptian," he laughed. "The Nubian desert holds many dangers for the unwary." With a flick of his wrist, the captain brought forth from the sistrum a sharp rattling buzz. Rhett held his breath until he saw the archers stand at ease. "Now, speak," the captain ordered. 

Feeling very much like a mouse caught in the hypnotic gaze of a serpent, Rhett hesitantly began to do as he was told. "My master, the Lord Vizier Scarab, wishes to meet with you, sir, alone. He wishes to determine your presence on this side of the border and avoid conflict." The words left Rhett in a rush, and the young servant stood silent. 

Now that Rhett had completed his assigned task, he felt a bit more at ease. The young servant had not failed his master. Since the captain was considering his response and not firing questions at Rhett, Rhett decided to take the time to observe the captain and learn what he could about the leader of the Nubian patrol. 

The first thing that struck Rhett as odd was the captain's age, or lack thereof. The captain was no grizzled, battle-scarred veteran, but a young and handsome man. He was shorter than those under his command and more delicately built, hinting at the possibility of Egyptian blood. As Rhett took note of the captain's lean build and taut muscles, however, he knew this man was no dainty court butterfly. The captain could, without a doubt, hold his own in a fight. 

"We shall leave now." The captain's words pried their way into Rhett's thoughts. Rhett had to frown. This wasn't what Scarab had wanted. "You and I alone shall go to your camp, servant," the captain continued, ignoring the protests from his men. "Your master knows we are all in a situation ripe with opportunities for misunderstandings; misunderstandings which could prove fatal. I will not accept a meeting under his terms. You came among us alone and unarmed as a sign of good faith. Now, I shall do the same." The captain handed his bow and a bronze dagger with a curved blade over to his second-in-command. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Scarab sat silently upon the sand, composing in his mind how he wished for the meeting with the Nubian commander to go. He'd not moved since he'd given his last order, and he could feel the eyes of the escort upon him, wondering whether the heat had made him crazy. He could envision two possible outcomes to the upcoming meeting. Either the size of the escort would increase as the Nubians joined them, or he would be dead. Politics was always a gamble, and these were the stakes for which the game was played. Anything less would almost seem pointless. 

Two men coming over the dune caught Scarab's eye. One Scarab recognized quite easily as his servant. The other he did not know. _'Apparently,'_ Scarab realized, _'there has been a slight change of plans.'_ Quickly, Scarab began to revise his own plans. Coming slowly to his feet, Scarab went to greet the newcomer. 

The stranger had a trim athletic build that Scarab knew couldn't have come from court life. His stature was slighter than the typical Nubian, and his skin, though healthily tanned, was not quite as dark. Some of the tenseness left Scarab as he realized that the Nubian government had sent an Egyptian to greet them. Both men stopped several feet from each other and bowed. When they straightened again, they watched each other warily, each trying to guess the motives of the other. At last the stranger broke the tense silence with an introduction. "I am Rahotep III. I would assume you are the Egyptian ambassador." 

Scarab nodded, but didn't provide a name yet. "Are you descended from-" Scarab started to ask, but didn't need to finish the question as the young man confirmed it. Scarab's eyes narrowed. So this young man claimed to be descended from the great hero Rahotep, who had been pivotal in pushing back the Hyksos. With no proof though, Scarab wasn't about to trust this man. He didn't know how things went between soldiers, but what he did know was the first rule of surviving in a political arena was to trust no one. What he needed was proof. "Please, pardon my skepticism," Scarab murmured. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Rahotep stifled an exasperated sigh. He'd marched his patrol double-time to the Egyptian border to escort some diplomat to Semna and he was being held up because there was some question as to his identity! How was he supposed to prove who he was to this arrogant aristocrat? He did not have those who had fought with is grandfather among his troops. Many had already gone on to paradise. Rahotep didn't march with a great black panther at his side, as his grandfather had. All Rahotep had was... 

Slowly, Rahotep extended an arm to the pale diplomat to reveal a gauntlet of intricately worked silver. The gauntlet bore the symbol of his grandfather's father, the sign of the Hawk. The other man, looking pleased, nodded. With a flourishing bow, he finally identified himself to the soldier. "I am Scarab." Rahotep knelt low, palms towards the ground, a salute that recognized the authority that this Egyptian man now held over him. Rahotep was bound by his oaths to get this man and his party safely to Semna. 

Another bond also held the young soldier to his mission. He had come to Nubia to make his own fame so that he would not have to live all of his life under his grandfather's shadow. To Rahotep, living under the shadow of the Shadow Hawk was unbearable! He wanted the chance to build his own life. 

Rahotep bid a hasty farewell to Scarab, promising to return with his men after sunset to lead Scarab on to Semna. Dashing off, Rahotep made it back to his own camp. Once his men made known their joy and relief at his return, Rahotep stood as tall as he could. "Tonight we join the Egyptian party. Today, we rest." Without another word, the young captain went off to his tent to let his actions agree with his words. 

*~*~*~*~*~* 

Rathera shivered in a dream. She knew that with all of the uncertainty about the Nubians that she should stay awake, but her body wouldn't cooperate. Lately, all she wanted to do was sleep. Once Scarab had left to plan, Rathera had laid down. She trusted Scarab to take care of her. 

In her dream, all was dark around Rathera, but through the darkness, voices and sounds reached her. She heard sobbing and knew it was her mother. The next sound to reach her ears was the voice of her father. "You have disgraced this family! Begone! You are no son of mine." Rathera frowned at her father's words. Who could he be talking to? Not Rath, certainly, but Rath was the only son her parents had. 

A moistness touched Rathera's lips and her eyes fluttered open, the dream fading as she smiled up at Scarab. Scarab smiled back down at her and passed her his water skin. "Drink, beloved sister," he murmured. "Drink and rest. Tonight, the Nubians join us and lead us on to Semna." Rathera drank eagerly from the water skin, only half-hearing Scarab's words. 

Once Rathera's thirst had been sated, Scarab took the water skin and left her tent. Rathera stared at the empty place beside her and sighed, wishing Scarab could stay. Once out of Thebes, Scarab had become a bit freer in showing his feelings for her, but even still he was careful not to arouse suspicions. With yet another sigh, Rathera laid back down and soon drifted off into a sleep unplagued by strange dreams. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Night spread her starry fingers over the desert. Rhett watched the soldiers expertly break up camp as he sliced some of the fowl Arakh had killed earlier. Being careful not to burn his fingers, Rhett set the still-steaming meat on a makeshift plate and carried it into Rathera's tent. The tenseness outside had not yet invaded this one tent. 

Rhett smiled at the sight of Rathera's sleeping form. She slept huddled up, her body tucked in as small as possible. Even in sleep, the rigors of the journey thus far were imprinted in hard lines on her face. Still, Rhett knew that sleep was Rathera's escape. She was both physically and mentally exhausted. Rhett only hoped that the baby forming within her was faring better. 

Rhett set the plate beside Rathera and watched as her nostrils flared as she took in the smell of the food like some wild animal.He'd learned the hard way that waking Rathera quickly resulted in her getting out her daggers.Sure enough, in her own time, Rathera sat up and began eating.She did not even give Rhett a second glance until there wasn't a bite left.

When Rhett knelt to take the plate, Rathera grabbed his arm."Are we really going to make it?" she asked, her body tense with unspoken fears.Rhett nodded, and as he gave his answer, he felt the truth in it.He realized that he knew that they were going to make it to Semna.

Rhett wanted to give Rathera more assurances than just his word, but how could he explain to her how he knew?How could he tell her that, for him, the slightest breeze whispered what was to be?How do you tell someone that the shadows promise fascinating tidbits of the future?To these questions, Rhett knew only one answer.You didn't.The most Rhett could do was assure Rathera that all would be well."We will be leaving soon," Rhett said at last."The Nubians will take us on to Semna."Rathera nodded, accepting what she was told, and began rolling her sleeping skin.Rhett deftly began to help Rathera take down her tent. 

Now that everything was all packed and ready to go, Rhett took a moment to savor the cool night breeze as it lapped at his warm skin.A barbarous yawp rose up from the desert sands and Rhett's blood turned to ice in his veins.He tried to tell himself that it was just a wild dog barking at the moon, but the sudden tenseness of the soldiers, both Egyptian and Nubian, belied this.

Just as the soldier's hustled Rhett to the center of their grouping along with Scarab and Rathera, the first of the Bwedanii warriors crested the dune.It was hard to make out the warrior in the dim light provided by the moon and the torches.He wasn't quite as tall as the Nubians, but his skin was just as dark, as though the desert sun had baked him black.He let out a wild whoop and began dashing down the dune towards the camp.Suddenly he stumbled and rolled the rest of the way down.Rhett barely got a glimpse of the arrow that had felled the Bwedanii warrior.

It had to have been one of the Nubians that had killed the Bwedanii, Rhett realized.Egyptian bows just didn't have that kind of distance.Other Bwedanii were peering over the dune.Rhett could see them moving.There had to be several dozen at least, maybe more still out of sight.At some signal Rhett couldn't hear, the Bwedanii swarmed towards the camp.Rhett closed his eyes, unable to watch, and a vision engulfed him. 

*~*~*~*~* 

What Scarab did know, however, was that fighting prowess alone would not win this battle.He was going to have to use magic.Unfortunately, the spell he had in mind was a difficult one.He needed some help.All the while keeping an eye on the Bwedanii at the perimeter, Scarab filled Rathera in on his plan.With a nod, she set her dagger down and took Scarab's hands.He couldn't help but notice that her hands were cold and clammy, her eyes wide with fear.Scarab was willing to bet that he mirrored her terror, but now was not the time to wonder about such things. 

The battle raged outside the circle of soldiers, the Bwedanii thus far unable to penetrate any further.Scarab could see, though, that at any minute the Bwedanii would break through.The soldiers couldn't hold up forever.Beside him, Scarab could see Rathera standing ready with a dagger.Even in her weakened condition, she was determined not to go down without a fight, though what good a dagger would do against a spear, Scarab did not know.

What Scarab did know was that fighting prowess alone would not win this battle.There were just too many Bwedanii.Magic was needed.Unfortunately, the spell Scarab had in mind was almost impossible for one person to perform alone."Beloved sister, I have a plan," he murmured to Rathera, hoping that the familiar title would calm her some.Once he was sure he had Rathera's attention, Scarab began to quickly outline his plan for her.Rathera nodded when he finished, and set down her dagger.Then she took Scarab's hands in her own.He noticed that her hands were cold and clammy, her eyes wider than normal.These were the only signs of her fear, and Scarab could only hope that he hid his own fear as successfully. 

Forcing himself to concentrate only on the spell and to not think about the battle, Scarab began channeling energy into the ring formed by himself and Rathera.He could feel her doing likewise as their energies mingled.Scarab was only dimly aware of the Bwedanii breaking through.Soon, though, it wouldn't matter.He had much more important things to do; he had to shape the gathered energy. 

A loud cry broke through to Scarab, and he turned his head just in time to see a Bwedanii warrior stumble into the sand beside him.Rhett stood above the warrior, holding Rathera's dagger.The blade was coated in red."I… I saw… Had to stop him…." The words came from the young servant sounding almost dead.His face was a blank mask.Scarab wanted to take the time to at least thank Rhett, but the energy beckoned to him once again. 

Allowing nothing else to disturb them, Scarab gave the magical energy purpose.Shields of magic formed around Egyptian and Nubian alike, causing Bwedanii spears to bounce harmlessly away from their intended targets.The Bwedanii snarled impotent curses as they realized that, for them, the battle was lost.Before they could lose anymore of their number, the desert wild men turned and fled. 

Scarab stumbled to the ground and tried to release Rathera's hands so that he would not drag her down as well.She maintained her grip, though, and would not let Scarab fall next to the Bwedanii corpse.Just as Scarab had been Rathera's strength through the trip thus far, she would now be his strength.

Another set of arms helped lift Scarab up, and the sorcerer found himself staring into Rahotep's beaming face."Well fought, sir!Well fought indeed!" the soldier extolled as he helped Rathera drag Scarab to the chariot.Scarab smiled wanly, wishing that he wasn't showing this much weakness in front of the troops.He couldn't help it, though.Managing that much mystical energy had left him as weak as a newborn kitten.At least they'd won, though.That was what counted. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Rahotep supervised the soldiers as they finished breaking up the camp.Even though they were all elated by the victory, no one wanted to stick around in case the Bwedanii decided that they wanted a rematch.Some of Rahotep's men had been for leaving right away and leaving the tents.Rahotep overruled them, though.Semna was several days away, and they would be glad of the tents to shade them from the day's heat long before they arrived. 

Soon everyone was mounted and ready to go.Rahotep noticed that Scarab's servant was hanging back a bit and slowed his horse to match the pace of Rhett's horse.Rhett seemed not to notice Rahotep as he kept his gaze firmly on his horse's mane."That was your first kill, wasn't it?" Rahotep asked. 

Rhett's head jerked around towards Rahotep so fast that Rahotep was half-surprised the young man didn't break his neck.The two men rode together in silence.Rahotep didn't repeat his question.He didn't have to.The look on Rhett's face had been answer enough.Normally, Rahotep would have recommended giving Rhett time to work through his feelings, but in this case, time was something they didn't have much of.If Rhett couldn't get over what he'd done, then he would be less than worthless to his master.When the silence became unbearable, Rahotep tried again to get through to Rhett."If you hadn't killed him, he would have killed your master, and then all our lives might have been lost." 

Somehow, Rhett seemed to find his voice, though just barely."I keep seeing it in my head.He keeps crumpling up as I stab him.There's so much red.Why won't it go away?" Rhett hunched in on himself as though trying to hide from the world.

Rahotep nudged his horse close enough to Rhett's so that he could place a hand on Rhett's shoulder."I would worry if it didn't bother you any.When we stop for the day, come to my tent and I will help you through this.For now, we need to concentrate on the road ahead.We survive first, Rhett.Remember that.Survival first and then we worry about the everything else."Rahotep smiled and gave Rhett's shoulder another comforting squeeze when Rhett sat up straighter in the saddle. 

They rode the horses hard that night; harder than they normally would have.Everyone wanted to get far away from where the Bwedanii attacked.Rahotep had two of his men and Scarab's hunter take the lead and scout both for defensible campsites and keep watch for more Bwedanii.

When at last they did stop for the day, everyone was so tense that no one really wanted to sleep.Rahotep put one of his men and one of Scarab's men on the first watch.Then he insisted that everyone at least try to sleep, but sleep lightly and with their weapons close.He was determined not to let the Bwedanii catch them by surprise twice. 

Finally, Rahotep was at last ready to settle in for a bit of rest.Going into his tent, he found Rhett already inside waiting for him.Rahotep took a seat beside Rhett and took the young servant's hand."You did good today," Rahotep whispered, keeping his voice down so that it wouldn't carry to the other tents.

Rhett shook his head."I killed a man today."His eyes brimmed with unwept tears.Understanding that Rhett needed to know that there was no shame in crying, Rahotep pulled Rhett into his arms and held the younger man.Rhett broke down, his sobs at first shaking his whole body like the sobbing of a child.Soon enough, Rahotep's comforting won through and Rhett slept safe and secure in Rahotep's arms.Rahotep laid Rhett down and lay by the younger man, stroking his back until he also drifted off to sleep. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Three more nights of hard riding and Arakh was chomping at the bit for some action.He'd seen coming to Nubia as a chance to do something that his brother wouldn't do.Nothing could have surprised Arakh more than when Lord Scarab had asked him to join the escort.Now, though, Arakh was just tired.Everything had settled into such a predictable routine.Not even the Nubians joining the party had changed things all that much.It just meant that he had to kill more game. 

Dawn's hazy fingers rose up the horizon and the Egyptians began seeking a place to set up a new camp.Arakh watched as Rahotep rode up to Lord Scarab's side and began talking.Lord Scarab nodded and pulled his horse to a stop."Everyone clean up and make yourselves presentable," he ordered."I have just been informed that Semna is merely half an hour away if we push the horses, and I, for one, will not enter the city coated in half the dust of the desert.Arakh, I trust you will see to it that the escort is a proper sight."

Arakh bowed his head in acknowledgement of Lord Scarab's command and dismounted.Once Arakh had cleaned himself and his weapons, he began marching back and forth among the escort, pointing out every little speck of dust he could find.Arakh ignored all of the dirty looks and dark scowls he received in his efforts to justify Lord Scarab's faith in him.Once everything was ready, Arakh urged the escort into a parade formation and presented them to Lord Scarab for inspection. 

Lord Scarab barely glanced at the escort, and said, "It will do."Arakh's jaw dropped open.He wanted so dearly to ask Lord Scarab what could possibly be done to improve the appearance of the escort, but dared not question his superior in this.Instead, he and the rest of the escort mounted their horses and began riding.Lord Scarab took the front with Rahotep by his side.Arakh made it a point to stay as close to the vizier as he could.

They crested a dune and gaped at the huge city sprawled below them.None of the Egyptians had been prepared for anything like this.Rahotep called for attention."Gentlemen," he said with a beatific smile."I have the honor to present to you Semna, the cradle of Nubia." 


	3. Nubia

Scarab Saga - Chapter 3: Nubia

**Disclaimer:** Usual routine. Mummies Alive is property of DIC Entertainment. I will probably make references to the book Shadow Hawk by Andre Norton in this chapter and chapters to follow. No copyright infringement is intended. Rhett belongs to Cyrus and Rathera is Rathera's character, and a great big thank you goes out to them for letting me use their characters in this story. This story is not part of the normal MA fic-verse, which is kind of obvious if you take note of the way I fiddle with some character histories to make them fit the story better. Also, don't look for accurate historical facts in this fic. If there's something I don't know, I make it up. 

**Warning:** This story contains mature themes not suitable for young children. So, if you have a problem with the portrayal (either directly stated or implied) of sex, blood, murder, violence, incest, and homosexuality then go find something else to read. I really don't care about the ages of whoever reads this because I feel that if you think you can handle it, then you can read it. However, I wouldn't want to be accused of warping the minds of young children and/or destroying their faith in their favorite characters, so take note of the fact that you have been warned. 

**Time Note:** This chapter takes place over a period of several months. 

**Scarab Saga - Chapter 3: Nubia**

Standing beside the throne of King Teti, Seneb glared out at the Egyptian diplomatic party, wearing an air of superiority about himself. Flames leaped up from the central firepit, crackling and snapping. Crimson shadows danced across Seneb's dark skin. As if warding off a chill, Seneb pulled his leopard skin mantle, a sign of the priesthood, more tightly about his shoulders. 

The pale, lank Egyptian knelt before the throne, making a speech to Teti. Seneb paid no attention to the Egyptian's words, having heard such pretty little speeches before. The Egyptian was honored to meet the king of Nubia; seeing Nubia had given the Egyptian's life its crown; he hoped peace could be brought between the two nations. Pah! Couldn't these fool ambassadors show a little more imagination? 

Grateful that he need not listen to the Egyptian, Seneb let his eyes wander over the most unusual member of the group. Seneb's gaze traveled appreciatively up and down the dark-haired woman's body. Perhaps she was meant to be a tribute. In that case, because of a simple twist of fate, Seneb knew that Teti would be enjoying the woman instead of himself. When in private, Seneb tended to rail against the cruel destiny that allowed Teti to be firstborn and therefore king, while Seneb must languish in the priesthood. 

With a start, Seneb realized that the woman, obviously aware of his eyes upon her, was staring back at him. Seneb flashed the woman a quick smile, his pearly teeth bright against his dark skin. The woman merely eased aside her cloak, revealing a dagger hilt. Startled, Seneb averted his eyes; no offering was this! Seneb realized that should Teti try to approach this woman, he would be in for an unpleasant surprise. 

Seneb turned his attention away from the woman as Teti began speaking. Good. This whole pointless ceremony was almost done with. Teti would thank the Egyptian for his compliments and then have the whole company escorted to their quarters. Unless requested otherwise, the soldiers would be placed in the barracks. The ambassador, woman, and servant would be given rooms within the palace. Sure enough, Teti offered no surprises as he split up the Egyptian party. 

Once the Egyptians were gone, Teti turned to Seneb. "Well, brother," he asked. "What do you think?" 

Seneb shrugged, not wanting to reveal his thoughts to the king. "I believe, Majesty, that they are as any other foreigners come to Nubia." With a wave of his hand, Teti dismissed Seneb from his presence, and Seneb rushed to his quarters. He'd sensed something unusual in the foreigners, but could not say what. He needed to find a way to get closer to the Egyptian party and learn what motives had truly brought them to Nubia. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Rathera kept close to Scarab as the Nubian servant led them to their rooms. She was trying to keep her emotions under control, but hiding her anger was difficult. How dare that Nubian stare at her so? She was no piece of meat to be ogled at by these Nubian dogs! 

As if sensing her frustration, Scarab laid a calming hand on Rathera's shoulder. "Steady, beloved sister," Scarab murmured. With a brief smile and a nod, Rathera showed she understood Scarab's unspoken warning. Making enemies in a country where they were the minority would surely be their deaths. 

Rathera watched with an amused smile as Nubian servants rushed hither and thither to prepare a room for her. She'd enjoyed seeing the courtiers' faces when she'd been by Scarab's side through the meeting with King Teti. No one had expected a woman to be part of the diplomatic party. She wondered if Scarab would cook up an explanation for her presence or if he would just let Rahotep and his men spread word of what had happened during the Bwedanii attack. Most likely the latter, Rathera decided, though Scarab would tell her his plans at the earliest convenient moment. First, though, they would have to persuade any spies around to turn their attention elsewhere. 

With a start, Rathera realized she was thinking like Scarab. He was the one who should be figuring out the next move, not her! Rathera's job was simply to go along with Scarab's cover story and deliver their child. Gods! She hated being in such a passive position. 

Pulling back the doorway curtain to what would be his room, Scarab motioned both Rathera and Rhett inside. As Rathera slid by Scarab, she brushed up against him, enjoying the seemingly accidental contact. As the curtain swished back into place, the contact stopped being quite so accidental as Scarab drew Rathera into his arms. Rathera laid her cheek against Scarab's bare chest, listening to the steady calming beat of his heart. 

Scarab slid his slender fingers under Rathera's chin and coaxed her gently into looking up. Rathera stared into Scarab's face, feeling herself drowning in his deep blue gaze. She started to seek out Scarab's lips with her own, but the sound of Rhett clearing his throat reminded them both that now was not the time for tender moments. 

Silent rage smoldered in Rathera's breast. Were she and Scarab to be denied all time to each other? She watched as all tenderness left Scarab and he began stalking about the room, fingers flicking quickly in a spell. The casting of subtle magic teased at Rathera's senses. She watched as Scarab stroked the walls as if trying to persuade them to give up their secrets. He brushed his reed-thin fingers through bright linen hangings. With a sudden snap of his wrist, the magic flared up momentarily and then faded. "For the moment, we are safe from eavesdroppers," Scarab announced, stroking the head of his golden serpent-shaped staff. 

Heka blinked and came to life, curling sinuously in her master's arms. Rathera paid no attention to the snake, never once taking her eyes off of Scarab as he began pacing back and forth in the confines of the room with barely contained energy, almost like a loping gazelle. Rathera schooled her expression into one of blank neutrality, not wanting Scarab to lose his train of thought. Privately, though, she was amused. She'd seen Scarab like this before and knew that he found this sort of constant movement conducive to thought. 

Scarab, Rathera had learned, had two telltale signs of deep thought. Often he would get so still that only the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest showed that he still lived. If Scarab was getting ready to lecture, though, he became a bundle of energy. Few ever saw this side of Scarab, but Rathera knew it well from her lessons. 

Suddenly Scarab stopped, his eyes gleaming bright with fervor. "The plan," he began, "is simply to stall." Rathera nodded, expecting as much. What she wanted from Scarab, though, were details. Pausing to organize his thoughts, Scarab spoke again. "I shall, of course, work at the negotiations. I should be able to draw them out long enough. 

"Rhett," Scarab snapped, starting to assume the air of a general commanding his troops. Startled, Rhett pointed to himself, seeking confirmation. Scarab nodded. "You will pass messages between myself and the body guards, as well as bring me any scrap of information you get hold of. I need as many eyes and ears in this place as possible." 

Heka started to make a snide comment to the young servant, but Rathera reached out and clamped the snake's mouth shut. Interrupting Scarab while he was planning would be an idiotic move. Rathera noted that thus far Scarab seemed to be getting a feel for the situation. Once he managed to put together a rudimentary spy network, his plans would become more elaborate. Now, though, the first few strands of Scarab's web were going into place. 

When Scarab's attention turned back to Rathera, she reached out and took his hand. A tremor passed through Rathera at Scarab's touch. "My love," Scarab murmured, his manner softening. "You have a difficult role to play. You will be presented as my apprentice, yet you must add a touch of mourning to your posture for a time. We will claim that you were married, but that your husband has gone before Ma'at to be judged." Rathera nodded, accepting the story that would be her truth for their stay in Nubia. 

"Lord Scarab!" A small shaven-headed young boy peered into the room. Skittish at having three sets of eyes upon him, the boy started to take a step back. "Lord Scarab," the boy repeated. "The lady's room is ready." Casting a last longing look back at Scarab, Rathera followed the boy to her quarters. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Clutching his coin purse tightly, Arakh braved the Semna marketplace with young Nefer by his side. On either side of the men, merchants proclaimed the wonders of their wares for all the world to hear. Arakh grimaced and tried to ignore the noise and jostling crowds. They'd been in Nubia for almost a month and Arakh was starting to feel stifled in the city. He was a soldier and a hunter, not some fool house-dweller. All this sitting around was driving him up the wall! He hoped some thief would be fool enough to try to cut his purse just so that he would have a chance to retaliate. 

Reaching out, Nefer gave Arakh's arm a friendly squeeze. Arakh tensed under the unexpected pressure, and managed not to slap the boy's hand away. "You don't like this either, do you?" Nefer asked. Arakh merely grunted a noncommital response. 

"We're men of action," Arakh mumbled, stopping to drop a coin into the hand of an old woman selling beer, the milk of Hathor. In a single deft motion, the woman pocketed the coin and scooped up a dipperful of the dark, foamy brew. Arakh drank deeply, savoring the flavor, and then passed the dipper back to the woman. 

With a manly belch, Arakh continued on through the market. "Ammut devour these Nubians!" he cursed. "Why must it be so hard to find a damnable scribe? You'd think that there'd be one on every street corner, eager to take our money and do nothing more than write a single letter in return!" 

Arakh's ramblings were interrupted by a soft, servile voice from behind. "Pardon, good masters, but I could not help but overhear that you are in need of a scribe." Coming to a halt, Arakh and Nefer spun to face the eavesdropper, fingering their weapons lightly. 

The tall, skinny Nubian priest made no move as the Egyptians watched him. Nefer was the first to pull his hand away from his bronze-bladed dagger as he recognized the priest. Arakh snorted as he followed the boy's example. "I know you," Arakh said, turning the simple statement into an accusation. 

The lanky priest inclined his head in acknowledgment, the pale tattoos on his scalp seeming to writhe with every moment. "Good master is correct," the priest nodded, bowing his head down so that he stood lower than Arakh. "Dedun has blessed me with the honor of standing at King Teti's side." Arakh nodded, impressed with the way that the priest gave himself and Nefer proper deference, though the mention of the Nubian god left him feeling a slight chill. 

_'A soldier's superstitions, that is all,'_ Arakh told himself. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Nubian guards smiled and nodded their heads in greeting as Rhett made his way to Rahotep's quarters. Rhett's yellow eyes lit with amusement as he remembered the first time he'd come down this way to see Rahotep. These self-same guards had tried to deny him access. After Rahotep had given his men a stern talking to, Rhett was always welcome. How welcome, though, these men would never know. 

Rahotep glanced up from a series of maps, a look of open delight brightening his face. "Rhett, my wandering heart," Rahotep exclaimed. "You came!" The captain embraced Rhett like an old friend, though they'd only known each other for a few months now. The kiss that followed was decidedly more familiar. 

Rhett slipped his hands through Rahotep's open robes and began stroking the captain's chest. Rhett still pined for Armon, but Rahotep was just as special. Around Rahotep, Rhett did not have to hide his feelings. Rahotep understood! Somehow, that made all the difference in the world. 

Rahotep's gaze turned suddenly serious and Rhett felt the pit fall out of the bottom of his stomach. _'Trouble,'_ that look said. _'Big trouble.'_ Rhett surpressed a sigh. He wasn't built for the political game, and yet here he was right in the middle of it. The Sight rose up within him, and Rhett promptly shut it off. Whatever it was, he didn't want to know. All Rhett wanted was this day, this moment, for his very own without worry of the rest of the world intruding. 

"You and your master must be careful, Rhett," Rahotep murmured as he nuzzled the Seer's neck. So what else was new? Years in Amenhotep's court had taught Scarab caution, and Rhett had been learning. "Seneb has been asking questions," Rahotep continued. Rhett blinked in utter surprise. That was it? Rahotep was frightened for him because Teti's precious pet priest had been "asking questions?" 

Incredulity must have shown plainly on Rhett's face, for Rahotep sighed. "Do not underestimate Seneb, Rhett. He is more powerful than a mere priest, for he is also King Teti's brother." For the second time in less than a minute, Rhett found himself blinking in surprise. This time his jaw also unhinged and fell open. 

"This is unexpected," Rhett croaked when he at last found his voice. Rhett's opinion of Teti rose a few notches. Men talked to priests, said more than they would have to others. No one wanted to get on the wrong side of the gods. Seneb made a perfect spy. 

The Sight rose up again and swallowed Rhett. He flashed not on the future, but the past. A bodiless observer to the scene stretched out before him, Rhett did the only thing he could do and paid attention to the montage of sights and sounds. 

A bedchamber... Darkness... The grating of stone against stone... Stirring on the bed... Someone awakened? The flash of a knife blade... Shouts, screams... Feet pounding the floor... The would-be assassin... King Teti... Men rushing to help and Seneb at the doorway, his face twisted with hate. 

"Gods," Rhett breathed as he returned to the present, shivering in Rahotep's arms. Now he knew and understood. Seneb was a dangerous man, and his methods were unnatural. Rhett would never forget the sight of the assassin, not a man, though it moved like one, but a burial statue... A Shabtie. 

*~*~*~*~* 

(The end of chapter 3. Next chapter, look for the birth of Scarab and Rathera's child. [Thanks again for letting me write this, Rathera!], new alliances, and the beginning of the end for Rapses. And I do mean the beginning since this story still has a span of approximately 8 years left to cover.) 


	4. New Life

**Disclaimer:** Usual routine. Mummies Alive is property of DIC Entertainment. I will probably make references to the book Shadow Hawk by Andre Norton in this chapter and chapters to follow. No copyright infringement is intended. Rhett belongs to Cyrus and Rathera is Rathera's character, and a great big thank you goes out to them for letting me use their characters in this story. This story is not part of the normal MA fic-verse, which is kind of obvious if you take note of the way I fiddle with some character histories to make them fit the story better. Also, don't look for accurate historical facts in this fic. If there's something I don't know, I make it up. 

**Warning:** This story contains mature themes not suitable for young children. So, if you have a problem with the portrayal (either directly stated or implied) of sex, blood, murder, violence, incest, and homosexuality then go find something else to read. I really don't care about the ages of whoever reads this because I feel that if you think you can handle it, then you can read it. However, I wouldn't want to be accused of warping the minds of young children and/or destroying their faith in their favorite characters, so take note of the fact that you have been warned. 

**Time Note: **This chapter takes place a few months after where Chapter 3 left off. 

**Scarab Saga - Chapter 4: New Life**

Rathera stared out the window in stony silence at the Nubian practice yard. Though not a fighter, she wished she could go out and join the soldiers in their workout. She'd had just about enough of being confined to her room. Yet she understood why she couldn't go out. Her "condition" was too noticeable. If Scarab hadn't been with her, the isolation would have been unbearable. 

Scarab... Rathera's gaze turned towards the vizier as he lounged among the cushions perusing various documents. The deceptions of the past few months weighed heavily upon him, aging him as life in Amenhotep's court had not. Rathera continued to cling to the faint hope that when they returned to Egypt, Scarab would retire and marry her, despite the fact that he continued to foolishly insist on becoming pharaoh. _'Whatever happens happens,'_ Rathera decided. 

Rathera's hand drifted lightly over her abdomen. Her time was fast approaching. She and Scarab had been discussing ways to explain the child in Egypt and had agreed that the best possible tale would be that they were fostering it. They could maybe pull this off after all. If Scarab would just marry her, though, none of the lies would even be necessary. Why did he have to be so damned stubborn? 

Dampness swooshed down Rathera's legs and she stiffened, expecting instantaneous pain. Nothing but warm wetness though, not time yet. Rathera took a shuddering breath to calm herself. She knew the theory behind childbirth, but never having experienced it, she wasn't entirely sure what to expect. Pain would be involved, dreadful horrible pain. Thinking of the pain scared Rathera. 

When the first contraction came, it was nothing like what Rathera expected. Soft and rolling, that first contraction could have been mistaken for a simple muscle spasm. Soon, she knew, the contractions would get stronger. "Scarab," Rathera gulped. "Perhaps you should send for the midwife now." 

Scarab's eyes went huge, like the gold platters King Teti nightly dined upon. Rathera realized that in this case her job was to be the sensible one and give the orders. "Send for the midwife," Rathera repeated. "Then have Rhett assist her. And then you should go out and keep yourself busy until I send for you." Mentally reviewing her commands, Rathera thought to herself that she did indeed sound quite sensible, and, better yet, her voice gave no indication of the panic she felt. 

Scarab merely continued to stare at Rathera as if she'd grown another head. Rathera took a deep breath and let it out slowly through her nose. Although she knew she had plenty of time, she would feel better once the midwife got there. Unfortunately, Scarab wasn't being much help. Taking Scarab's hand, Rathera led him to his quarters, pausing only to ask one of the Nubian guards to send for the damned midwife. _'Men can be such blithering idiots sometimes!'_ Rathera fumed as she shut Scarab in his room and dragged Rhett off. Maybe it was an instinctual thing, though. She'd heard stories that when Rapses was born, Queen Shinoba had ended up ordering Amenhotep to go out for a chariot ride just to get him out from under foot. 

Rhett got Rathera settled among the cushions and went to stand outside the door and wait for the midwife. Meanwhile, Rathera experienced another contraction. 

*~*~*~*~* 

Rhett settled into the easy familiarity of duty. Even now his job was as it had always been. He fetched things. When the midwife asked for boiled water, he made haste to the kitchens and got the water. When she asked for a knife, he fetched a knife. Meanwhile, Rhett was free to let his mind wander so long as he accomplished his tasks. He thought most often about Seneb and what he knew of the priest. Rahotep's words continued to haunt Rhett. "Beware of Seneb. Teti thinks the world of his brother, yet most at court believe that Seneb would gladly steal the throne if he could." 

Twice had there been attempts on Teti's life, and both times the attackers had not been human, but Egyptian burial statues. The attacks had obviously failed. The failure came with an unfortunate side effect, though, for now Teti was suspicious of all that was Egyptian. Because of Teti's attempts to sever diplomatic ties with Egypt, Scarab had been sent to Nubia. 

_'At least things are starting to make sense now,'_ Rhett decided as he handed the midwife her herb kit. _'Teti wants nothing to do with Egypt, and his actions are making life difficult for the Egyptian families who have lived in Nubia since the Hyksos attacked so long ago. So Amenhotep sends in Scarab to try and smooth things over so that there is no war. And Scarab wants out of Egypt anyway. Now, because Scarab seems to be on friendly terms with Teti, the next move will probably have to be Seneb's.' _

Well, at least all the puzzle pieces were fitting together. Would there be any way to tell what information Seneb had garnered from the Egyptian escort? Probably not. At least they didn't know anything about Scarab's true reasons for coming to Nubia. Rhett exhaled a deep bellowing sigh. He missed the good old days where he could just be a simple servant looking after his master. He hated having to play the part of a spy. 

Rhett's gaze happened to pass over Rathera and he turned away. He caught a glimpse of sweat-soaked hair falling over brown eyes gone far too wide. Teeth flashed like fangs in a pale face. The midwife knelt before Rathera, obscuring the worst of the sight. Rhett turned away with a shudder. _'Thank the gods I'll never have to go through that!'_

*~*~*~*~* 

Seneb slid through passages only he was familiar with. A small sphere of magic balanced upon the priest's fingers, outlining the hidden hallway in a dim purple glow. Scurrying from the light intruding in their dark domain, rats sought cover, sliding into their bolt holes. Seneb snorted in disgust. 

The stars had spoken to the priest last night. This was a day to forge new alliances, and begin building up his power. Seneb's priests had brought in a sacrifice to Dedun. They'd cut it open and read the augeries. Seneb himself had fondled the heart. A human sacrifice would have been better, would have told the future more clearly. From the goat, Seneb learned that he was to offer the Egyptians power. 

The passage narrowed, coming to an end. Placing his ear against the rough wall, Seneb listened. Only just barely could he make out the shuffling sounds of movement on the other side. Seneb felt along the wall for a leather strap, which he pulled inwards. A segment of the wall moved along with the strap. The Egyptian ambassador was alone. "Greetings, good master," Seneb's voice fairly purred. 

Scarab was staring at Seneb, eyes wide with shock at this intrusion. Already, his hand rested on a bronze dagger; prepared to defend his life in an instant. Flashing white teeth in a quick smile, Seneb approved the ambassador's quickness. "You react well, good master, but peace. Peace. I have an offer for you, a great offer. One which you cannot refuse." 

The tension oozed out of Scarab, but still his fingers never left the hilt of his dagger. Seneb nodded to himself. Suspicion was a good thing. Never truly trust anyone and you can never truly be betrayed. Still, the priest was going to have to take a chance if he wanted the power he craved. "I can ease your path with Teti greatly, good master, and can offer you great magics, but in return you must help me." 

Behind those inscrutable lavender eyes, Scarab weighed his options carefully. "I'm listening," the vizier finally said. Seneb smiled as he outlined his plan, steepling his fingers together. If he could remain patient, the throne would eventually be his. 

*~*~*~*~* 

The hidden doorway swung shut behind the priest and Scarab could only shake his head in disbelief. Seneb had more gall than brains being so straightforward with his offer, but the offer had indeed been a good one. They'd managed to put together the beginnings of a plan which would give each man what he most wanted: the throne of his respective country. 

Rathera must be informed! Scarab's decision came in a quick snap. She had to be told that the son she was bringing into the world would rule Egypt! Scarab rushed across the hallway to Rathera's room. The almost animal sounds of a woman giving birth had ended. Silence echoed throughout the corridor. Scarab stepped into Rathera's room. 

The midwife was wiping her hands on a scrap of linen. Her dark, wizened face scrunched up into a smile when she saw Scarab. "Is done," she proclaimed as she began gathering her things. 

Scarab's gaze swung in an instant to his lady love. Pale and exhausted, Rathera clutched a linen-swathed bundle to her breast. With a triumphant smile, she gave Scarab a perfect imitation of the mid-wife. "Is done." Rhett, hovering over Rathera's shoulder, merely placed a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. 

Swooping down on his beloved, Scarab embraced both her and the baby. His long fingers began to lovingly ease the tangles out of Rathera's hair as he held her close. "Our child," Scarab murmured. "Our son..." 

"Daughter," Rathera corrected, leaning into Scarab. 

Scarab's heart sank to his toes. Daughter? Surely not! He took the baby from Rathera, to see for himself. Yes, a daughter. His dreams of establishing a dynasty were turned to ash in his mouth. 

*~*~*~*~* 

The Nile meandered its way through the desert, a strip of life-giving blue in a parched land. Never truly tamed, the river permitted men to fish its waters at their own risk. Today the fisher's were out in force, plunging nets into the cool waters in hopes of a grand harvest. Along the docks, the catches were brought in and cut with expert hands, the offal thrown back into the water to draw more fish. 

A lone figure, tall and lanky, wrinkled his nose in distaste. Odors of sweat and dead fish were an assault to his dainty senses. Rath despised the docks, despite understanding their necessity. Normally, the scribe would be content to bury himself in documents, but his sister and Scarab returned today, and he wanted to be the first to greet them. 

Unconsciously, Rath's mind flashed on the last conversation he'd had with the vizier so many months before. Just before Scarab had left for Nubia, Rath had thrust a cryptic note from his father at the vizier, demanding an explanation. "Do you remember how I once told you that I would look after Rathera as if she were my own sister?" the vizier's silken voice had purred in Rath's ear. "There is good reason behind that. However, this need not become common knowledge, as there was some slight disgrace to the family involved." 

Rath's face burned scarlet as the conversation replayed itself. Even going directly to his father had not produced any satisfactory results. He'd merely been told to let the past stay buried. What was over and done with was best forgotten. 

A boat eased up next to the docks. Soon, Rath was embracing his sister, and cooing over the baby. He whole-heartedly approved of bringing back a child from one of the Egyptian families exiled to Nubia and raising it in the court. The gods knew that the little one's chances for a good life were much improved in Thebes. 

"Welcome home, sister," Rath said as he led Rathera back to the palace. "Gods! How I have missed you! You must tell me all about Nubia." Such outpouring of emotion was rare for Rath, and he could see that it left Rathera a bit flustered. He couldn't help himself, however. He was genuinely glad to be reunited with her again. Glancing back over his shoulder at Scarab, Rath realized for the first time, that there was no one to greet him. Did the vizier ever miss the warm familiartiy between family? Looking at Scarab's blank face, Rath couldn't be certain. 

Not sure where he stood anymore, the scribe smiled at Scarab. "Welcome home to you also, Lord Vizier. The palace has been at loose ends without you." 

"No doubt," Scarab answered simply as he broke away to head for his own quarters. 


End file.
